“My child, has it occurred to you that we’re all acting as if we had not only wanted Overton to die, but to stay dead?”
She gave him a strange look.
“I—I wasn’t thinking of that. I—why, yes, you’re right, it’s true. It’s just as if we did want him to stay dead!”
Gerry took her by the arm.
“Come into the house, child! You’re standing out here in the wet, in a ridiculously flimsy dress and slippers.”
She went, her arm still in his grasp, but she did not even smile.
“It’s true—how awful of us! Just as if we wanted him to be dead, because——”
“Because of Faunce,” concluded the doctor dryly. “Don’t worry, my dear—not about that, anyway, for I’ve an idea it’s true.”
“You mean——”
“That Overton isn’t dead at all.”